Spain and Portugal 2009

Our Big Trip 2009 brought us on a whirlwind journey through Spain and Portugal, from April 5 - April 19. In two weeks, we pondered the old world charm of Porto while sipping sweet port, marveled at the gold magnificence of Holy Toledo, and sampled Goya and tapas in Madrid. Moving on the Andalucia, we delighted in the Moorish splendor of the Alhambra in Granada, and were astounded by fancy, flamenco footwork in Seville.

Our pilgrimage north to Santiago de Compostela gave us a chance to breathe in the fresh, green scents of the Galicia country side and we ate everything in sight as we drove east towards Basque country. Bilbao and San Sebastian treated our tummies well, before we lived like royalty in Barcelona, the crown jewel of the entire trip. The following posts chronicle each day of our trip, beginning with the most recent day.

This beautiful part of the world overwhelmed us in so many ways, and we feel changed and blessed by our incredible journey. Enjoy!

Day 14: Te Amo , Barcelona!

Why, oh why, didn't I learn Spanish in high school? I don't feel like I can adequately express how much I love Barcelona in English. Luckily, I was a big fan of the song "La Isla Bonita" by Madonna when I was a kid, and learned early on that "Te Amo" means "I love you!"

Another sunny (but supposed to be rainy) day in Barcelona, and this morning, we caught a regional train out to Cavas Freixenet, a winery located about 45 minutes outside of the city where they make cava. We didn't realize until our tour that 80% of the cava exported from Spain is under the Freixenet label. In the United States, they have a subsidiary in Napa called Gloria Ferrer, a beautiful little vineyard that makes some delicious sparkling wines.

Waiting for our tour of the facility to begin... love the brick barelled ceiling!

Cava and Champagne are essentially the same thing, except because the grapes do not grow in the Champagne region, you can't call it champagne. Instead, in Spain, cava is the bubbly of choice for celebrations. The method for producing the cava is essentially the same as champagne, and it was interesting to see how similar the caves were to the Moet Chandon champagne house I visited in Champagne last year.

Of course, all good tours end with a tasting of the product... these bubbles seriously went straight to my head.

Back in town and needing some food to edge off my buzz, we walked down the Ramblas towards La Boqueria, Barcelona's market of all markets. The Ramblas was absolutely electric on this Saturday afternoon and filled with people...

Sections of the market have traditionally sold pets..

...while other sections are reserved for street performers...

....while other sections burst forth with the colors and fragrances of flower stands.

La Boqueria stands right off the Ramblas, and you can smell the delicious food before you even see the entryway.

Right as we entered, we were greeted by the sight of a stand selling all sorts of fresh squeezed juices. My mouth began to water, as I realized that I haven't eaten a piece of fruit in a long time!

Fishmonger stands brimmed over with fresh seafood, featuring underwater critters specific to the Mediterranean Sea.

Aha... finally. Just what we were looking for. The market has little bars, grills, and cafes scattered throughout, but we found one right in the center that seemed to be bustling. We saw a couple that seemed to finishing up their lunch, and stood behind them at the counter to snag their seats when they stood up.

We ordered up a plate of fideua, which is a typical Catalan dish, similar to paella, but made with short, thin noodles instead of rice.

We also ordered the plato combinado of seafood, and were thrilled to receive clams, mussels, fried sardines, crispy octopus, calamari and cubes of fresh cod, all cooked to order by one tiny lady. Simple, pure and totally delicious.

I remember being in awe of the fruit stands when I visited La Boqueria 7 years ago, and I was glad to see that those golden images didn't exist only in my memory...

Check out the color on these figs!!

Full and happy, we both bought a cup of fresh-squeezed juice for 1 euro to sip as we walked (mine was mango-pineapple), and we veered off of the Ramblas and wandered into the Gothic Quarter. I love this old town. It seems that at every turn, around every corner, it's possible to stumble upon yet another gorgeous plaza.

I saw a man preparing to scrape off some of this colorful tagging, so I snapped a quick photo before he got started.

We wandered languidly through the streets, looking for a particular churro y chocolate place that Jack had read about. We found it at 3:55pm, and were sad to see the blinds drawn... but the note on the door said that they would reopen at 4, and they did!

We split a plate of the churros y chocolate... I mean, seriously, what's not to like and why are there no desserts like this in the U.S.?

A bit more shopping on our way back to our hotel helped us to beat out a storm which seemed to be blowing in. For dinner, we had 11 pm reservations at a restaurant called Espai Sucre in the Ribera neighborhood.

We'd read about this restaurant in, of all places, the Delta Airlines flight magazine on our initial flight to Spain. At first glance, you might think... oh, just another glitzy, modern restaurant serving avant-garde food... but then you look closely, and realize, this is a DESSERT RESTAURANT. As in, there's a 5 course tasting menu, where each course is a dessert! There were some meats and proteins on other tasting menus so you could have a full meal here, but I figured, if I could have a meal that was completely dessert, and multiple courses at that, wouldn't I? Why yes, I think I would. And I did.

I loved it! I mean, how can you resist such unique flavor combinations as bread pudding, bacon ice cream and miniature cubes of pineapple gelee? Or my fourth course, the olive oil cake with white peach ice cream, green olive foam and San Simon cheese? And then there was the Idiazable cake with foams, ice creams, gelees and powders consisting of the flavors of cherry, red beet, black beer and cacao nib...

I admit, this meal was not for everyone, and even as I write it down, I realize how weird it sounds. But it made so much sense in my mouth! I was concerned at first about eating an entire meal consisting of desserts, but actually, I did not find myself being over-sweetened or palate fatigued at all because there were so many interesting combinations balancing the tastes of sweet, bitter, salty and sour, as well as texture differences between crunchy, chewy, foamy, creamy and jelly. Every bite was like a spoonful of new ideas.

And so ended our last night in Barcelona. We took the metro back to our hotel and soaked in our last moments of Big Trip 2009. It was hard to believe that we would be leaving the next day, but we were so grateful for the time and the freedom spent together, exploring Spain and Portugal. We had incredible food, beautiful scenery, good friends, and really, the country exceeded even my highest expectations.

But of course, what makes every trip worth traveling for me these days is the time I get to spend with Jack. I love being at his side as we discover new sights, experience new cultures, taste new foods, and meet new people. We've always traveled well together, and as the years have gone on, I think that I've also come to realize that traveling has been an important part of our marriage. We've planned a big trip every year for the past five years now, and it has become a part of our annual rhythm. Traveling has brought us closer in so many ways and we've learned so many things about how the other person thinks, how the person will react to a certain situation, and how to work together to make the most out of a certain experience. All of this leads to a richness in our relationship and an alignment of mind in how we view and approach our world.

And so, we head back to real life in Seattle together. Usually I get the end-of-vacation blues, but this time, I'm more than content with sweet memories, because really, real life is pretty awesome with my husband at my side. Very sweet, indeed.

Day 13: Gawking at Gaudi in Barcelona

This morning, we caught the 8:40 am flight from Bilbao to Barcelona, and made it to our hotel by 11am to drop off our things and hit the town. As we stepped outside, Jack said, "It's supposed to rain today, should we grab the umbrella?" I shrugged nonchalantly, waved my hand, and said,
"We're from Seattle... what's the worst that could happen?"

Famous last words.

First stop? Lunch of course, and I'm pleased to report that my appetite was back in full force. We walked through our neighborhood, L'Eixample, drinking in the details of the beautiful apartment buildings, with their intricate wrought-iron balcony railings, stained glass detailings and stone molding.

Within walking distance of our hotel was a restaurant that Jack wanted to try called Hysop. We were the first diners that afternoon when they opened at 1:30pm, and we were ushered into a modern, minimalist-designed room with a brick barrel ceiling.

I loved the delicate accents of red scattered through the room... a red rose head in the vase, a long- stemmed rose hanging on the wall, a red chair surrounded by black ones along the banquette...

We both did the 3 course lunch menu, and I loved every bite of my foie salad, perfectly-cooked, crispy-skinned corvina, and rice pudding.

After lunch, we stepped outside into a thunder and lightning storm, which seemed to grow stronger with every step we took towards the Sagrada Familia, our next destination. As we walked, we ducked under some awnings and stepped into this beautiful, modernista house, labeled Casa Asia. The attention to detail and the soft, curving stone work was reminiscent of Gaudi's style. Turns out, the building hosts all sorts of events related to Asian education.

The storm let up to a light drizzle, and we ran towards the Sagrada Familia, one of the top attractions in Barcelona. Progress on the cathedral is slow... Gaudi began work on it in 1883, and work continues to this day, with a projected end date in another 25 years! I visited the cathedral about 7 years ago, and to be honest, not a whole lot has changed. I was still incredibly awe-struck by it, and Jack was also impressed by the genius behind the design. Gaudi's philosophy behind architecture stems from his experiences and observations of nature, and I did find that the spires of the cathedral resembled stalagmites in a way.

A glimpse of the Passion facade to the cathedral...

Walking into the catheral was a bit like walking into a cave, with the unique stone work and the curving streaming lines seeming more natural than man-made.

Outside, a scene of the Passion facade again above the side entrance. I found it interesting that the face of the Christ figure was left un-detailed, as was the face of the mother figure at his feet. Instead, the mother figure holds the shroud, with an imprint of His face.

After about an hour wandering through the catheral and the adjoining museum, we followed our map to another famous Gaudi design, the Park Guell. The park was originally intended to be a sort of gated, residential community, but these days, it is a whimsical park filled with the geometric shapes, patterns and lines so unique in Gaudi's work.

I loved these colorfully-tiled benches, waving gently around the outlook point.

We were so glad that the sun peaked out at this particular moment... can you seen the rainbow in the distance?

Throughout the park, there are some fantastical structures, which Jack commented, seemed sort of like an alien from outer space had come down to earth and planted itself. I added that it seems like if you touched the walls, you'd almost expect them to be warm and fleshy, and maybe a little bit sticky. But of course, they weren't.

We headed back to the hotel at 7 pm so that Jack could take a work conference call, and also so that we could rest up a bit. Since neither one of us were really hungry, we decided to take an evening stroll down the bustling Ramblas, the exciting pedestrian street that runs through the middle of the city, all the way to the waterfront.

Even at night, the street was action-packed, with street performers, artists, musicians, locals and tourists all out to check out the scene. Can't wait to see what it looks like in the day!

Day 12: The Day that I Shocked a 3 Michelin Star Chef in San Sebastian

We woke up in our cool hotel this morning in San Sebastian to a bright and sunny day... we keep lucking out with this weather. The forecast always says rain, but it holds off long enough for us to enjoy the day.

Here's a picture of the lobby of our hotel, the Astoria 7 in San Sebastian. It used to be an old movie theater, and they've kept the cinema theme and decked the place out with glamorous posters of famous movie stars...

We caught a city bus up to old town and roamed through the mercado, hoping to catch a glimpse of some of the city's chefs picking up ingredients for the day, but alas, I think we were too late. We did see these unusual specimens, though...

After roaming through the Parte Vieja for a bit, we headed out to the Concha de la Playa and the beautiful beachfront promenade, with it's boardwalk atmosphere. This stretch of sand is considered to be one of the nicest beaches in all of Europe.

And then, finally, it was time for lunch. Before we embarked on this trip, we had read that this particular area of Basque country had more Michelin-starred restaurants than anywhere else in the world. Food bloggers site their favorites, but there are so many to choose from! We settled on Arzak, a restaurant with 3 stars to it's name and over a hundred years of tradition within the same family. The restaurant had been made world famous by the previous chef, and now the kitchen is run by his daughter, who is fairly young- the same age as Jack!

I'd been looking forward to this meal for weeks, having made the reservation a month in advance, reading the reviews, and even seeing it featured on various travel shows like "No Reservations" and "Spain, On the Road Again." And then... something really sad happened. I woke up in the morning with an upset stomach and a complete loss of appetite. Just the thought of food made me feel nauseous. It was as if I'd woken up on marathon day with a bum knee. I must have overdone it at Extebarri the day before (which is still totally worth it, by the way), but was sorely disappointed that I wouldn't be able to give Arzak the full and complete attention that I was sure it deserved. We went anyways, mostly so that I could take pictures of Jack eating. And boy did he eat. I gave it my best. I really did. But when the first course came out, the plate pristinely set with two, glistening, perfect oysters stuffed with some sort of a magical concoction full of color and flavor, I ate the first one, and for the life of me, could not stomach the second. I was so sad. Our server waited to see if I would touch it, and when she realized that I wouldn't, came over to make sure the dish was acceptable. She seemed shocked. I mean, whoever sends anything back to the kitchen at this place? Perhaps I was the first?

We quickly explained that I wasn't feeling well, and they suggested amending the menu to suit my appetite, assuring me that it would be no problem at all to halt the meal at any point. There was some whispering among the hostess, the server and the water girl, and then, the chef herself came out of the kitchen, walked over to our table and gently placed a hand on my shoulder. Her eyes expressed genuine concern, and I explained to her that I had been looking forward to this meal for so long, that it was to be a high point in our trip, and unfortunately, I was feeling ill today. I seriously almost burst into tears. She was very compassionate, assured again that the meal could be amended however I wished, and even came back at the end of our lunch to check up on me and make sure that I was ok.

Well, Jack's lunch looked incredible, and I did try a bite here and there and was able to stomach another dish after the oyster, and all I can say is, I understand the hype. As good as the food was, I would give the restaurant it's 3 stars and it's ranking within the top ten of San Pellegrino's World's 50 best restaurants, just for the care and attention I received on this day. Even though I wasn't able to eat the food, at least the dining experience was a pleasant one.

For some reason, my unruly stomach was assuaged by dessert, and I was thrilled to see this beautiful plate of petit fours come out at the end of our meal.

With lunch digesting comfortably, we caught a 5:30 pm bus back to Bilbao where we would spend the night before flying back to Barcelona for the last stop of our trip. It's hard to believe that our time in Spain is drawing to a close... but I'm so looking forward to two whole days in Barcelona!!

Day 11: Off the Beaten, Basque Path

A beautiful Basque morning in Bilbao lured me out early in the day for a long walk, as Jack took care of some work from our hotel room. I strolled down the long, pedestrian avenue which lead straight to the gleaming Guggenheim Museum, designed by Frank Gehry. The hulking, curving structure of steel and glass fit in with the modern cityscape of Bilbao, crowning the town with a unique edge which seems to push the envelope on this northern coast of Spain.

After we checked out of the hotel, we took one last walk around the old town and the lovely riverside.

The bright, pastel colors of old town were set off brilliantly against the black and white spots of this dalmation... notice how his eyes are also multi-colored!

One of the cool things about being married to a food blogger, is that we often find ourselves off the beaten path, whether we're at home or abroad, following our noses to some out of the way, unknown little establishment serving phenomenal food. Today was one such day. While doing his food research for our Spain trip, Jack had read about a unique asador in the countryside outside of Bilbao, which was revolutionizing the concept of the grill. Since we still had our rental car, we decided to give it a go, and followed a set of complicated directions gleaned from the internet, our maps, and the gps system, leading us deep into tiny little towns tucked in the emerald mountains of the Basque country.

We found our destination, a restaurant called Etxebarri, in the middle of a tiny town square, surrounded by small, chalet-style buildings.

The courtyard was exceedingly charming, with lovely, stone buildings surrounded by mountains, mist and sheep grazing on the neighboring hillsides. The quaint setting reminded me so much of Switzerland.

For a restaurant of such renown, we were surprised to find ourselves in pretty much an empty dining room, while the bar raged with laughter and beer downstairs.

Since Jack's the expert, I'll leave the food commentary and most of the photos for him to cover on his blog, but here are just a few samples of some of the things we delighted upon on this particular afternoon...

Caviar, lightly smoked on the grill, served warm, which punctuated the deep, rich flavor of the eggs, hinted by a light smokiness...

Baby octopus, perfectly tender, with a nice, crispy caramelization on the skin, again with a slight hint of smokiness...

We were floored by the entire meal. It really was the kind of food that changes your perspective on... life. We both put the lunch in our top 5 eating experiences ever. Since it seemed to be a slow day, we asked our server if we could meet the chef.

Victor Arguinz came out and greeted us warmly, listened kindly as we blubbered about how delicious his food was, posed jovially with us for pictures, and then treated us to an after dinner herbal liquor. Love that Spanish hospitality!

Somehow, we rolled ourselves out of the hillside, and made it into San Sebastian by 6pm, returned our rental car, checked into our hotel, and then passed out for a few hours. We woke up at around 10 pm, and, feeling the need to get in a bit of exercise, we headed out and took a midnight stroll through the quiet streets of this spectacular, beach side resort town.

Our evening ended peacefully, watching the light rippling off of the gentle waves in the river.

Day 10: Cruising East Along the Northern Coast of Spain

Early this morning, we headed to the Santiago de Compostela train station and rented a car for our long drive to Bilbao. After multiple calls from the states to confirm that the car would indeed be an automatic transmission and that a gps device would be included, we were glad to find everything just as we had asked for, and we headed out of the city easily with blue skies before us.

Driving through the Galician countryside made us feel, corny as it sounds, happy to be alive. Lush, rolling hills dotted with fluffy sheep, idyllic, stone houses with laundry hanging in the sun, and blue skies hung with poofy, white clouds, greeted our every turn. We slipped our flamenco cd (the one we bought on the street in Granada) into the stereo, and snapped along to the music. (Most of today's pictures were taken through the window of a moving car...)

We left Santiago de Compostela at 10am, and after about 4 hours of easy driving along the N-634 (with a 15 minute break for Fanta Limon at a lovely country inn) we found ourselves in the coastal town of Gijon. We picked a crowded cafe in a sunny square for lunch, and sat down to one of the strangest meals we've had yet on this trip. I won't go into detail, but let's just say my first course involved rice and marinara sauce, and Jack's involved mushrooms... many many mushrooms.

It took us (and our gps) a while to figure our way out of Gijon, which gave us our first glimpse of the Cantabrian sea.

Finally moving onwards at around 4:30 pm, we hopped on the A-8 expressway which moved us much more quickly along this beautiful drive. The topography began to change dramatically, and soon, we found ourselves driving through the foothills of some pretty awe-inspiring peaks. I think these are part of the Picos de Europa, a popular national park.







Soon, we noticed that the signs were starting to display a new language, and realized that it was Euskarian, an ancient language dating back to Neolithic times, spoken by the Basque people. It is actually the oldest spoken language in Europe. The mountains also gave way to coastline, which would eventually lead us to the Bay of Biscay.


We finally made it into Bilbao at 7pm in the evening, found our hip hotel without any problem. Just a quick note about our little car... we rented a Citroen C4 which runs on diesel gas- totally awesome! More torque to the engine than a normal transmission, yet, incredibly gas efficient- we drove about 570 kilometers on half a tank of gas!


After resting for a bit, we took the incredibly easy to use and very modern metro to Casca Viejo, old town. As it turns out, very few pintxos (like tapas, but smaller, more like "bites") bars are open late on Tuesdays, so we limited ourselves to two, and nibbled a few pintxos at each. Jack tried the txakoli, which is a light white wine, special to the region, while I opted for the most delicious bottled water I can remember tasting... the Solan de Cabras. It's like drinking liquid crystal.

The dinner was light, but neither one of us was terribly hungry... besides, we had to save our appetites for a big eating kind of day in the Basque country side tomorrow...

Day 9: Hanging with James... St. James, that is.

We woke up bright and early this morning to catch our 9:30 am RyanAir flight from Madrid to Santiago de Compostela, which literally translates to "St. James of the stars." This city is the ultimate destination of a long and arduous walking pilgrimage across northern Spain, beginning at the French border. The story goes that 1200 years ago, a monk followed a constellation of stars to a small village in the Galician countryside and discovered what seemed to be the relics and final resting place of James. As in, the James. The Apostle. The guy that wrote the Book of James in the Bible. A church was built on the site of the tomb, and since then, it has been added upon over the centuries so that today, it stands before you in the main square as a massive, romansque structure, looming ominously against the thickly clouded sky.

As soon as we set foot in town after dropping off our luggage at our small inn, it began to pour sheets... so it is like Seattle! No better time to tour a cathedral than when it's storming outside, so we ran through puddles along the stone-lined streets, through moss covered porticos, and ducked into the church doorway right at noon, just in time for the special, daily mass held for pilgrims who walk the Camino de Santiago.

Although it was not the gleaming, gold glory of the cathedral in Toledo, nor the grand sprawl of the cathedral in Seville, the cathedral of Santiago de Compostela definitely holds the most mystique. All around us, weary pilgrims in their hiking shoes and rain ponchos knelt in silent prayer, sobbed as they were overcome with emotion, or just sat in awe of being in such a holy place.



The mass lasted roughly an hour, and at the end of it, we noticed the priests untying the ropes which held back the mighty, silver incense burner.

Could it be? We'd read that the botafumeiro is only swung 25 times a year, and oh... there it goes! How did we get so lucky? This thing weighs about 120 pounds, and with the incense burning inside of it, it swings in a wide arc through the cathedral, over the heads of the congregants, filling the place with smoke. Ricardo Stevez wrote that this interesting custom began as a way to "counteract the stench of the pilgrims," and in the past, "priests were said to add a pinch of cannibis," to enhance the party like atmosphere of pilgrims having completed their quest.

After the mass ended, we walked around the perimeter of the cathedral and found the tomb of St. James, which holds his remains in a delicate, silver chest.

Back outside, we started to meander the small streets of this enchanting town, which really, in all honestly, is a bit the way I imagine Hogsmeade (from Harry Potter) to be... narrow stone pathways, moss-covered walls, quaint shops and cafes tucked into every nook and cranny. The air was permeated by a pleasant dampness, and the Galic-sounding tunes of a recorder player floated from one corner, while bagpipes droned from another.

We found a tiny little bakery featuring the tarta de Santiago. Realizing that we hadn't eaten all day, (save for a couple of sad, little airport muffins,) we bought a slice of the torta to devour in the doorway. The light, buttery, cake made with almonds gave us a small burst of energy, enabling us to carry on with our explorations.

Lo and behold, the sun came out! We rounded the corner and found a sunny spot in the Praza do Obradoiro, facing the main entrance to the cathedral.

Scattered all across the square were pilgrims arriving from their walk, exhausted, many of them actually finding a dry patch of ground to lie down and catch a nap, or just gaze at the cathedral. We found the stone with the engraved sea shell in the middle of the square, declaring that you have reached your goal! Well, we hadn't but the actual pilgrims had...

By this point, we were both exhausted, cold, wet and still slightly sick, so we headed back to our tiny room at the inn, and pretty much slept till morning. Oh, but first, a stop at a cute, little chocolate shop first... must end the day on a sweet note!

Day 8: Adios Andalucia!

On Easter Sunday, we awoke in our comfortable, modern, no-frills hotel room to a pealing of the church bells in Seville. Christ has risen! Despite all of the Semana Santa experiences we've had, hearing the bells ring was the clearest reminder to me of my salvation and redemption... at once joyous, profound, and eternal. I imagined another believer, perhaps hundreds of years ago, sitting in the church square where I sat that morning, listening to those same bells, and feeling the same gladness.

For breakfast, we walked down to the riverfront and ordered ourselves a plate of churros y chocolate. The chocolate was thick and decadent, and the churros were light and crispy, sort of like the Chinese you-tiao. Funny how every culture seems to have it's own version of fried dough.

It was beautiful sunny day, so we took a leisurely walk along the riverfront, basking in the warm glow upon our vitamin D-deficient, Seattle-ite skin. We paused to watch some men fishing down by the water, and were surprised to see one guy struggling with his line. His buddy came over with a net, and after a bit of splashing, pulled a huge, yellow-scaled fish out of the water. After weighing it and measuring the length, they threw it back into the river.

By noon, it was time for us to make our way to the train station, to catch our fast, AVE train from Seville to Madrid. The Estacion Santa Justa is sparkling and modern, not to mention highly efficient.

Though the train ride was smooth and comfortable, I was unfortunately feeling slightly feverish by the end of it. Luckily, there's no better place to sleep off a fever than a city that you've already visited! We checked into our small pension, both popped a tylenol, and slept off our colds for 3 and a half hours! (Jack had a runny nose.) We felt worlds better when we awoke, and funny thing too... it was time for dinner! For our tapas crawl tonight, we headed to the La Lateina area of Madrid, where one long, narrow street brimmed over with trendy tapas bars. We found three that served up some innovative fare, and I found my new, favorite, Spanish wine- the Rueda, made from verdejo grapes. Yum!

We headed back to the hotel a bit before midnight, in the middle of the city, in the middle of the country, in the middle of our trip. Tomorrow morning, we'll be traveling up to Santiago de Compostela and the Galicia region, in the northwest of Spain. Supposedly, it's green, lush, and rainy there... like Seattle!

Day 7: Sevilla, the City with Soul

Ahhh... Sevilla... there is something really special about this city, something that would make Jack declare it his favorite place so far on this trip... is it the orange trees everywhere, gracing the air with their delicate fragrance? Perhaps the romantic, cobblestone Jewish quarters with cafes and bars tucked into every turn? Maybe the genteel facades of the colorful buildings lining the main avenues? The sunshine gleaming along the beautiful riverfront promenade? Whatever it is, there's something about this city that makes you want to linger, breathe it all in, and walk a little slower.

We left Granada on an 8am bus to Sevilla this morning after a fitful night of sleep... I think I slept a total of 2 hours! The cappucino I had at 6 pm yesterday must have been pretty strong.

Luckily, I slept pretty much the entire bus ride, about 2 hours and 45 minutes, and was ready to go when we arrived in the city. First stop, the cathedral!!

Oops, wrong picture! That's Zara, one of my favorite stores, and it's absence is definitely missed since I've been in Seattle. At four stories high, this Zara was sort of cathedral-like...

But really, here we go. As we neared the cathedral, we saw that the surrounding area was set up for the Easter processional that would be happening later in the evening. Jack read somewhere that each one of these seats in the corded off section cost upwards of 70 euros each!

The cathedral in Seville is the largest in Spain, and the third largest in all of Europe, after St. Peter's in the Vatican, and St. Paul's in London. It was truly impressive. Built on the site of an old Moorish mosque, some of the structure still had signature Moorish details, like the keyhole-shaped doorways, and the irrigation streams in the courtyard. Inside, the high altar gleamed with gold frescoes, and the marble columns arched gracefully over the domed roof.

We climbed the ramps up to the bell tower, and caught some amazing views of the beautiful city.

For lunch we decided to try out a tapas bar that Jack had read about, and were rewarded by a small bit of counterspace right in the doorway, as we nibbled elbow to elbow with well-dressed locals, coming from church.

After lunch, we returned to our hotel so that I could take a 3 hour siesta, before heading out again at 7pm. We strolled across the bridge to the other side of the river, then crossed back again to make our way up to the cathedral.

We were just in time to catch a glimpse of the the Christ-figure platform marching slowly up the steps of the church, as a whole marching band played a mournful processional. From a distance, the high pitched bugles actually sound like human wailing. Behind the processional, women dressed in black mantillas followed somberly, mourning for the Christ, as the scent of candles and incense permeated the air.

We left the scene and turned torwards the cobble stone streets of Barro Santa Cruz, the old Jewish quarter, and though, still full from lunch, we found a quiet little cafe on a remote corner, where we nibbled a few small plates of tapas, as I sucked down yet another Fanta Limon, and Jack had his usual draft cerveza.

At 10:30pm, we headed over to the Casa de la Memoria de Al-Andalus ("House of the Memory of Al-Andalus"), where we had tickets (14 euros) to see the flamenco show. We walked into a lovely courtyard and found some seats along the edge of the square, which had a wooden platform right in the middle.

While planning this trip, one of my most highly anticipated experiences was to see some real flamenco in Sevilla, which is known as the city of soul. What a treat! At 10:30 on the dot, two men strode onto the stage, one a singer, and the other the guitarist, and for the first act, they performed a ballad, which seemed to set the mood for the dancer. At the opening of the next song, a beautiful, petite woman strode danced her way onto the wooden platform, dressed in a narrow, black and purple flamenco dress, edged in pink lace, which flared out below her knees. Her red, patent leather flamenco shoes had thick heels which added pronounced percussion to the clapping and singing of the singer, and the thumping and strumming of the guitarist. We were treated to an hour of incredible artistry, as she twisted and clomped, graceful yet passionate. Her face at times twisted into a fierce and concentrated frown, and other times, the corner of her mouth turned up ever so slightly, smiling seductively through her thick lashes. I don't think I've ever seen anyone move their feet so fast, especially when she did the quick, stacatto stomping, which seemed almost like a camera trick- you couldn't even really see her feet anymore, they were moving so fast. Other times, during the slower parts, her movements were incredibly graceful, the turning of her wrists and the movement of her hips almost a bit like Hawaiian hula. But always, it was picked back up with a quick clap, into a frenzied, ecstatic state, with all three performers playing off of each other in a complex interchange of duple and triple meter, the two against three rhythms sometimes leaving the listeners to hold their breath, fearing that, oh my goodness... will they end on this cadence together? but they always do.

For the second half of the show, the dancer came back out wearing a white toriodor outfit, complete with a short bolero jacket, and still, the red, patent leather shoes.

Totally worth it. We left the show in awe, singing and clapping our way through the streets. I tried to do a few, quick flamenco steps, and Jack just laughed and shook his head. He says that if I learn flamenco dance, he'll learn flamenco guitar, and then we can put on shows together! Ha! We'll charge... 1 euro.

Day 6: Good Friday in Granada

With a full day in Granada, we decided that we had the luxury of going to sleep last night without setting our alarm clock. All of this traveling must be catching up to us because we ended up sleeping until 11:30 am! Pretty much a full 10 hours! As it turned out, we would need all the energy we could get for this day...

The weather was gray, and a little bit sprinkly, but even so, it didn't detract from the brilliant colors we would find in the city scape of this ancient, university town. The main attraction here is the mighty Alhambra, a magnificent Moorish palace, and the last Muslim stronghold in Europe, until their retreat to the Christians in 1492. Our guide book written by local Seattle favorite Rick Steves, (or Ricardo Stevez, as we've come to call him on this trip) had warned us to buy our tickets online as early as possible as they tend to sell out fast during the Semana Santa, which it happened to be. Luckily, we scored an afternoon visit, with a 7pm admission to the main palace.

This left us the morning (I suppose it was actually early afternoon by the time we woke up and left the hotel room) to explore the cathedral and the Albayzin neighborhood, the old Moorish Quarters above town.

As we meandered around the narrow maze of pedestrian streets surrounding the cathedral, we wandered our way through the bazaars displaying all sorts of colorful textiles, baskets, jewelry and other craftwork.

We finally found our way to the main entrance of the cathedral, and were only allowed to view it from the narthex, since the main hall was closed in preparation for Good Friday. No worries, we didn't really have time to walk through it leisurely anyways, but I was quite taken by the proud, gleaming, marble columns. I happened to snap a shot of the priest in his robes, rushing across the marble, checkered floors.

Back outside, we caught a quick, impromptu show by these flamenco guitar players totally jamming, and having a grand old time. They were so good, we picked up one of their cds, which I'm sure will bring back wonderful memories of our granadian adventures.

We hiked up the hill through the whitewashed Albayzin neighborhood to St. Nicholas plaza, which had this incredible view of the Alhambra in the distance.

We were both getting a little bit wind-whipped and chilled, not to mention starved, so we stopped into a small bar on a quiet plaza that was referenced in our guide book as the place to go for boatloads of fried fish! Yum! Fried octopus could really be the next big thing...

Finally, we made the lush, 20 minute hike up a beautiful, landscaped pathway to the Alhambra. Upon admission, we saw that indeed, tickets had been sold out for the day, and I said a silent "thank you" to Ricardo Stevez... how disappointed would I have been to miss out on all this???

Words and pictures don't really do the Alhambra justice and it's easy to see why this place has captivated artists, writers and composers for centuries... it is such an experience to wander through the airy, open rooms, with the arched, stone windows intricately carved with the achingly beautiful detail of Islamic art and pattern. Every window had a view of the surrounding country side, the lush courtyards, or the gleaming Albayzin, and I was stunned by the domed ceilings, the complicated array of fountains blooming in the courtyards, the abundance and fragrance of the fruit trees and flowers, and the colors of the tiled walls and the domed ceilings. The first time I ever really examined Islamic art was at the Museum of Islamic Art in KL, when we were on our trip to Malaysia a few years ago. Instead of pictures depicting scenes from the Bible as in Christian, religious paintings, Islamic art is based on patterns, the amount of detail and interweaving intricacy is a testament to one's devotion to God. All I can say is, these Moors were very, very devoted.

We were lucky to catch a totally packed minibus back to the city center, which happened to drop us off right along the pathway for the Good Friday procession. What a contrast, to come from soaking in the details of one of the greatest pieces of Muslim architecture, to witnessing this passionately intense, centuries old Catholic tradition, of parading the crucified Christ through the streets to the cathedral. It's definitely a little bit jarring to my Presbyterian, minority, American eyes to see these figures in the parade with the cone shaped hoods, carrying symbols of the cross. I later came to learn that the colors of the hoods represent the different brotherhoods of a particular city.

There were many children in the procession as well, many of them given the job of keeping the candles lit on the blustery night.

After seeing first the Christ-figure, and then the Virgin Mary carried by on elaborate platforms laden with gold and flowers, we decided to beat the crowds, and snagged a table by a window of a local tapas bar, kitty-corner to the cathedral, where we were able to watch the rest of the processional while enjoying a delicious dinner of "modern" tapas.

What an amazing day!